


Soft As You Fortify (With Armor Spent)

by Verasteine



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s02e10 Kiʻilua (Deceiver), Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2484524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verasteine/pseuds/Verasteine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Two days in, Steve stops taking his pills. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft As You Fortify (With Armor Spent)

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for a fic spanning the time between 2.10 and 2.11 was conceived on chat with [](http://eumelia.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://eumelia.livejournal.com/)**eumelia** , and we both lamented lacking time or ability to write it. I, er, found myself unable to resist after all. I'm indebted to her for also taking on the beta job for this one, and for providing support and handholding during the writing process. Lastly, a hat-tip my twitter flist for the last minute English advice.

Two days in, Steve stops taking his pills.

Danny knows this, because the first day home, Steve didn't make it out of bed, and Danny brought him the drugs at regular intervals, watched as he took them and then as his eyes glazed over and he went under.

The second day, Steve moved stiffly around the house, took the drugs when Danny offered them, and zonked out on the couch.

The third day, Danny watches him drag himself into the kitchen, look at the pill bottles, and select only the antibiotic he's been prescribed, foregoing the rest.

Danny makes himself a cup of coffee, watches Steve poke at his usual breakfast of granola and yoghurt, push the bowl away, and lean back with a barely suppressed grunt.

"Do you think that's smart?"

"Do I think what is smart?" Steve replies, casting his eyes up at Danny's face.

Danny picks up a medicine bottle and gives it a shake. "Not taking the pills the nice doctor prescribed you."

Steve shrugs. "I'll be fine."

Danny doubts that very much.

\--

Steve manages till about one o'clock, and then Danny catches him in the bathroom, shaking a Tylenol tablet out of a bottle and swallowing it dry.

"What the hell?"

Steve glances at him, leaning heavily on the sink. "What now?"

"You'll take that, but not the heavy duty shit the hospital gave you? What's the matter with you?"

"I don't like that stuff," Steve replies obstinately. "I'll be fine, Danny."

"Yeah, bullshit." Danny sighs. "Will you at least lie down, considering that you can barely stand up?"

"You're not my mother, Danny."

"Well, thank god for that." Danny gestures at him. "When, and I say _when_ , not if, when you fall over, don't expect me to pick your ass up off the floor." He turns on his heel and heads back down the stairs.

"You're a great friend, Danny!" Steve yells after him.

\--

He keeps the tv down low, doesn't use the headphones this time, and he can hear Steve move around upstairs, can hear him tossing and turning, eventually getting up and walking around the room.

He doesn't come downstairs, and Danny doesn't go up.

\--

Day four, and Steve has deep circles under his eyes, face washed grey with fatigue, and his hands shake when he gets himself breakfast. He picks up the bottle of antibiotics, looks at it with a wry twist to his mouth, and takes one pill.

He puts the bottle back in the row of bottles standing there, and doesn't touch any of the other ones.

Danny sighs loudly. "Why won't you take that shit?"

Steve glares at him. "We've been over this. Enough, Danny."

"We've been over this, and I told you then that you should take that stuff, because jesus, Steve, they don't dole 'em out like candy for no good reason. You need them."

"I don't." Steve sits down heavily in a chair, wincing, and pokes his spoon into his breakfast listlessly.

"Are you going to eat that, or stir it?"

Steve fixes him with a dark expression. "Look, you know I'm fine with you living here, but mind your own business, okay?"

"Excuse me for caring," Danny shoots back. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

Steve snaps, "I think it's pretty obvious, don't you?"

Danny's seen what he looks like, can smell the antiseptic from where he's standing, knows intellectually a little of what has happened in North Korea, and he understands the shadows lurking in Steve's eyes. It makes him take another deep breath before letting himself be goaded into anger. "I get that you're tired and in pain, so I'm going to make allowances for you here. Now tell me why you'll eat Tylenol but not that?" He gestures at the pill bottles.

Steve glances at them, grits his teeth. "They mess with my head."

"Mess with your head," Danny states.

"I can't think, they make me drowsy."

Danny feels a little like he's been punched in the stomach, winded and sore. "Babe..."

"Don't start," Steve snaps, pointing a warning finger at him. "Shut up, Danny."

"Yeah," Danny says softly.

\--

He goes back to work, leaves Steve alone with the promise to be available on his cell whenever Steve calls ("I'm not twelve, Danny, I can stay home by myself") and heads into the city with a decent amount of apprehension.

The team still look a little shell-shocked, and he fields a few inquiries about Steve's wellbeing before they can settle down to paperwork.

Danny stops by Chin's office shortly before lunch. "Hey."

"Nearly done," Chin replies, finishes typing a sentence. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering," Danny says, pulling the door shut behind him, "if Malia might be willing to do me a favour."

"I'm sure she would." Chin frowns. "What kind of favour, brah?"

Danny sighs. "Steve won't take his meds." As soon as the words leave his mouth, he realises what it sounds like. "Look, I'm not his mother, it's just..." He makes a futile gesture.

"We all worry about him," Chin says gently, and Danny wonders how much of his concern is visible in his face. He knows they're all still looking tired, but the rest of them went home to their own place, not to watching Steve move stiffly and carefully around his own house, refusing help. "I'll give her a call."

"Thanks," Danny replies, feeling more relief than he has a right to.

\--

Malia fits him in between two patients the same afternoon. "Chin mentioned you were concerned about Steve," she says with a smile as she gestures to a chair.

Danny sits even though he'd like to pace around the room. He's never seen Malia in her professional capacity before, and it's odd how at home she is in the white coat and a hospital office. "Yeah," he says, and hands her the list he wrote down. "The doctors in the ER prescribed him this stuff, and he won't take it, well, except for the antibiotic."

Malia reads the list carefully. "That's smart, at least, that he keeps taking that one."

"Yeah." Steve was never a stupid guy. Danny runs a hand through his hair, tries not to feel like his heart is bruised and there's no one to fix it.

"Did he tell you why? I mean, sometimes people don't take painkillers because they don't need them."

Danny laughs bitterly. "That's not it. He's been taking Tylenol by the handful." He knows; he checked the medicine cabinet that morning and the nearly full bottle is now half empty. "He says they make him sleepy. He's a little..." He can't find a word to describe Steve's not-quite-paranoia.

"I can understand that." Malia knows more than she's letting on; Danny's willing to bet Chin told her a lot of the details. "I can write him a prescription for a different drug, to replace some of these. But Danny, all drugs have side effects. He'll not be so drowsy on these painkillers--" she scribbles something on a pad "--but he will experience other side effects, most likely."

Danny nods. "I'm not looking for a magical answer here. Just--"

"Okay." Malia hands him the prescription with a smile. "I hope this works for him."

"Thank you," Danny says, "and thanks for your time. I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about it. I hope Steve feels better soon."

\--

Danny fills the prescription on his way home, puts the pill bottle on the kitchen table and goes in search of Steve. He finds him on the lanai, sagged out in a chair, asleep. Leave it to Steve to not actually make it to a bed. When Danny turns to tiptoe back into the house, Steve starts awake, hissing when he tries to sit up.

"Danno?"

"Yeah." Danny turns back to him. "You okay there, sleepyhead?"

"Shut up." Steve's voice is rough, and he rubs a hand over his face. "What time is it?"

"Nearly seven." Danny hesitates. "I'll go make dinner."

"Okay."

He leaves Steve on the lanai, heads back to the kitchen and scrounges around the refrigerator until he finds enough foodstuffs to make a half decent meal, and sets about cooking things. Steve drags himself into the house about ten minutes later, stiff and uncomfortable. He stops short in the doorway.

"What the hell is that?"

He's staring at the pill bottle on the table, swallowing, and Danny looks at his face. There's fear there, behind Steve's shuttered eyes, and oh man, Danny wishes he could take it away. "I got you different meds. These shouldn't mess with your brain so much."

Steve narrows his eyes, like he's locked in a battle of wills with the bottle. "Okay."

The bottle stays there through dinner, while Steve pokes at his fried chicken and finally shoves it to one side, electing to only eat the vegetables.

\--

Danny wakes to the sound of the waves breaking relentlessly, and footsteps above him. Steve's up again, in spite of it being the middle of the night, walking around his bedroom, not venturing out. He dozes a bit until he hears Steve's door open, and then he struggles up, but Steve doesn't come down the stairs, heads for the bathroom instead.

The sounds are unmistakable, and Danny winces as he listens to Steve throwing up. He pushes the covers off himself and goes upstairs, finds Steve rinsing his mouth at the bathroom sink.

"You okay, babe?"

Steve glares at him. He's pale and sweaty, breath still coming fast. "What do you think?"

Danny stamps down on his immediate anger. "You need anything?"

"I'm good." Steve sighs, drinks a bit more water. "I'll try to get some more sleep now."

Danny steps aside to let him pass, fingers itching to touch Steve, to put an arm around him and pull him in, and tell him to lean on someone else for one second. He doesn't, doesn't follow Steve into the bedroom either to make sure he really gets into bed.

Finally, he heads back down the stairs.

\--

Day five comes with a phone call, just before Danny is about to go out the door, and when he sees Steve's face drain of colour, he stops with his car keys already in his hand.

"No," Steve says, sounding far too calm for the way he's nearly grey in the face, "I'll be there, Joe. Of course I will."

When he hangs up the phone, Danny takes a step towards him, hesitant. "What was that all about?"

Steve looks at the breakfast bowl in front of him. "Board of Inquiry convenes on Friday. Joe needs me to testify on his behalf."

Danny thinks, for one brief moment, about all the things he hasn't allowed himself to think about; rooms with chains and dead bodies whom he once knew, and he struggles to pull himself back out of the memory of humid jungle and Steve's face, bloodied and bruised, hands shaking around a rifle that he wouldn't let go of, after. "I'll come with you," he says, and his voice sounds raw.

"You don't have to," Steve says automatically, still addressing his breakfast, and Danny stamps on the impulse to pull him away from the table and yell at him until Steve responds, in any way.

"Maybe I want to," Danny shoots back belligerently, and Steve looks up at last, corner of his mouth twitching.

"Go to work, Danno."

\--

Day six Steve calls him in the middle of the afternoon, and Danny steps out of an interrogation to take it. "Hey, what's up?"

"Hey." Steve sounds tired, rough around the edges. "You busy?"

"Of course not." Danny winces at the way that sounds. "I mean, we do stuff, we're always busy, but I got a moment."

Steve snorts. "If you've got stuff to do, you should get back to it. I wasn't calling to-- It doesn't matter."

"It matters," Danny snaps automatically. "What's up, babe?"

"It's nothing."

Whatever it is, it's something, so Danny changes the subject. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good." A short pause, and Steve adds, "Took a nap."

Danny fills in the blanks, all the things Steve isn't saying. Steve called him right after a nap, no special reason, looking to hear his voice. "Napping is good," he says, not managing to keep the concern from his voice.

"I guess."

"You worried about testifying tomorrow?"

"It's nothing; I'll be fine."

Danny flaps an annoyed hand at him, though Steve can't see. "Offer still stands."

"I don't need a babysitter," is the terse reply.

"Jury's still out on that," Danny shoots back.

"Fuck you," Steve says good-naturedly.

Danny bites down on a glib reply that would betray far too much. He clears his throat. "Get some rest, babe."

Steve makes a scoffing sound. "I'll try."

\--

The new medicine bottle is a third empty when Danny comes home, and he smiles when he sees it.

"Shut up, Danny."

Danny grins at him. "My lips are sealed, Steven."

Steve has a little more life in him, a bit more colour to his cheeks, and he moves less slowly. Danny starts putting food out to cook, and he catches the moment Steve stops mid motion and stares at the steaks sitting on the counter.

"Not a good idea?" Danny hesitates.

Steve swallows. "If you want to have one, you should. I'll just--"

Danny puts the steaks back into the fridge without argument. "We'll have something else."

Steve's ghost of a smile nearly breaks Danny's heart.

\--

The first time he hears Steve throw up that night, he goes up to him, and gets glared at until he leaves again. The second time he listens to it, forcing himself to stay still where he is. The third time, when Steve's reduced to dry heaves, Danny can't stand it any more, throws the covers off himself and heads upstairs.

"Fuck off, Danny."

"Bullshit," Danny replies.

Steve's t-shirt is clammy with sweat, sticking to his skin, his hair is damp and his face grey. He stands on shaky legs and Danny holds out a hand, which Steve bats away. "I'm fine."

"Like hell," Danny shoots back. He holds a cup under the tap and hands it over, watches as Steve rinses his mouth, leaning one hand heavily on the sink. "You done?"

"I think so." Steve drags himself back to the bedroom, and this time Danny follows, watches as Steve sits down slowly on the edge of the bed. It seems beyond him to pull the covers back and lie down, so Danny digs around Steve's closet, finds a spare t-shirt, and brings it over.

"Come on," he says gently, tugging Steve's t-shirt up. To his surprise, Steve lets him, but when it comes to raising his arms he hisses, biting his cheek. Danny carefully peels the shirt off one arm and then the other, quickly slides the clean one back on. "Still sore, huh?"

"Yeah."

Danny tugs the covers back, prods at Steve until he lies down, curling in on himself. He can feel Steve shivering when he pulls the blankets over him, and finally says, "Fuck this."

"Huh?"

Danny comes around the bed, slides in on the other side, fits himself against Steve's back with an arm around his waist. Tremors are running through Steve's frame and he feels smaller than his six feet against Danny's chest.

"I'm good, Danny," Steve says, because the idiot thinks Danny will believe him, "just leave me alone."

"Shut up, will ya." Danny slides his hand up until he can feel Steve's heartbeat under his palm, feel Steve's breathing, shallow and too fast. He rubs his nose through the curls on the back of Steve's head, and finally feels Steve relax with a sigh.

Danny tugs the covers more firmly around them, and holds on.

\--

When he wakes, it's with Steve's head on his chest, hair ruffled and Steve deeply asleep. Danny takes one look at his face, at the long lashes fanning out on his cheeks, at the dark line of the cut under his left eye, and knows he's in too deep.

He reaches over carefully, brushes Steve's hair from his forehead and carefully extracts himself. Steve wakes, blinking open his eyes. "What?"

"It's morning," Danny says needlessly.

"Oh." Steve struggles to sit up, looks at Danny, and they're so close, Danny could just lean in and-- "I, uh... thank you."

Danny waves that away, watches as Steve extricates himself stiffly. "No problem, babe."

"I need to-- You okay if I shower first?"

Danny frowns, watches as Steve pulls his uniform out of the closet. "You up to going to this hearing?"

"I'll manage."

"Go on," Danny says, gesturing towards the bathroom.

When the shower stops running and Steve comes back out, he's just in his boxers and Danny tries not to look, sees the evidence on Steve's chest nonetheless, and Danny swallows at the push-pull of want and anger at the sight.

Steve sits down on the edge of the bed, picks up the half empty bottle of the antiseptic, and Danny winces at the smell, the scent that's been hanging around the house for days. He leaves Steve some privacy, walks himself through a quick shower and shave before dressing and heading down to the kitchen.

Steve is wearing his uniform, jacket and cap over the back of a chair, and Danny stops short at the sight, swallows hard at it. He hasn't seen Steve in uniform for a while and it's enthralling, even with the fading marks on his face.

"Danny?"

Danny shakes himself. "Yeah, no, I'm good, Steven." Steve is frowning, and now is not the time for Danny to give away his indecent attraction to his partner. He waves a hand at him. "Eat. You'll need your strength."

"You're not my--"

"Mother or babysitter, duly noted. I'm just the guy who'll have to clean up the mess when you keel over, so humour me, yeah?"

Steve looks faintly bemused, but does get himself breakfast, dutifully takes both the antibiotic and the new painkiller he's got, and eats.

He gets about halfway through breakfast before he pushes the bowl away from himself.

"Meds still making you sick?"

"Yeah."

The colour's gone out of Steve's face again, and it's habit more than anything that makes Danny reach over and put his hand against Steve's forehead, but Steve reels back in total surprise. Danny freezes, meets Steve's eyes. "You okay there, babe?"

"Yeah." Steve takes a deep breath, blows it out again. "Yeah, I'm good."

Danny carefully moves in, puts his hand against Steve's skin. He's clammy, but not hot. "You'll live," Danny pronounces.

"I know that."

Steve stands slowly, reaches for the uniform jacket, and Danny puts his hand on it at the same time. "Let me."

After a moment, Steve nods curtly, and Danny holds it up, making it easier for Steve to slip his arms into the sleeves. Steve buttons up the jacket and picks up the cap, and Danny turns away because he wants to kiss him, badly.

"I'll call you," Steve says.

"Thanks. I'd appreciate that." Danny makes himself look over, swallows.

"I'll be fine, Danny."

"Yeah."

"See you later."

Danny nods and watches as Steve leaves the house.

\--

He can't focus on his paperwork, thoughts drifting back to Steve. He should be at Pearl Harbor now, should be sitting there and listening to Steve testify, and he knows they probably wouldn't even let him onto the base, let alone into a classified inquiry board, but he wants to be there.

He also doesn't want to be there, doesn't want to know what it takes to put those shadows in Steve's eyes, even if he kind of already knows.

Kono pauses in his doorway. "Hey, Danny, you all right?"

"Yeah." He runs a hand over his jaw. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks."

"You want some coffee? We're going out on a run, so--"

"Sure. Make mine a double."

Her smile is sympathetic. "No problem, brah."

\--

Steve calls early in the afternoon, just as the jolt of caffeine is wearing off. "I'm done, heading home now. Just wanted to assure you I'm still in one piece."

"Yeah, well, that's good to hear. Hate to be chasing all over the island for bits of you."

Steve laughs. "I'll try not to die in a way that gives you a lot of trouble, Danno."

Danny's throat closes up abruptly. "I'd appreciate you trying not to die, period." He can't help how rough it sounds, how much it gives away.

Steve is silent for a beat. "Too soon?"

"Fuck you," Danny replies angrily. His irritation with Steve suddenly reaches a boiling point. "We aren't all tough as boots Navy SEALs, all right? Excuse me for being a human being."

"Danny, I didn't mean--"

Danny very carefully considers throwing his coffee cup through the plate glass window of his office, and how satisfying it would be when they both shatter. Only the calm, quiet hum of machines and conversation in the main room stops him from doing it. "I know you didn't." He scratches at a patch of stubble he missed shaving that morning. "Look, Steve, can we not do this right now? I've got to work."

It's a cop out, but he can't help himself. It's too close and what he wants to do right now, if he's honest with himself, what he's been wanting to do since he pulled Steve out of the back of that truck in Korea, is go to him and kiss him until Steve either punches him in the face or kisses him back.

"Danny..."

"I'll see you tonight." He hangs up before he can think not to.

\--

When he gets home, he finds Steve in the kitchen, gun oil by his right hand, three weapons in various stages of disassembly spread out on the table. Empty clips and a box of bullets sit nearby, waiting, no doubt, to be loaded.

Danny recognises Steve's usual Sig-Sauer and his service Beretta, and another gun he didn't even know Steve owned. Steve looks up from cleaning a barrel, gives him a tight smile, and says, "Hi."

"Hey," Danny replies, still taking in the fire power sitting on the kitchen table. "You having a spring cleaning, babe?"

"Thought I'd get something useful done."

"Yeah, that's the first thing I'd think of, too." Danny shakes his head, turns to the fridge. "What do you want for dinner?"

"Sandwich is fine. I'm not hungry."

Danny glances over his shoulder, takes in the intent way Steve is focussing on his task, the dark circles highlighted by his pale skin. "You wanna go lie down for a bit?"

"I'm fine."

Danny pulls out cheese and lettuce, considers and dismisses the idea of adding bacon. "How did it go today?"

Steve shrugs. "They asked me a bunch of questions. I told them about Joe and you guys coming to get me out, hopefully it's enough."

"Enough for what?"

"Joe keeping his job."

Steve's voice is carefully neutral, without inflection, and Danny feels a strange need to make more noise, sets out plates and grabs the bread. He whistles through his teeth. "Man, babe, that sucks."

"Yeah, well, technically it's an act of war to go into enemy territory and shoot at people, so--" Steve drops the cloth he's holding, pushes his palms into his eyes. "I don't want to be the reason he loses his career."

"It's not gonna come to that, is it?" Danny adds a layer of chips to the sandwiches, sneaking in extra calories. He squashes the top half of the sandwich on them before Steve can see.

"I don't know, it might."

Steve picks up the box of bullets, methodically begins to load each clip, lining them up side by side when they're done. Five for the Sig, three for the Beretta, and the unknown gun has another three. Danny stands there, holding two plates of food, and nowhere to put them down because the kitchen table is covered in weapons and gun paraphernalia.

Steve glances up. "I'm nearly done."

"Great," Danny replies, and wishes he had a hand free to rub his forehead.

\--

He doesn't fall asleep that night, before he can, he hears Steve moving around upstairs, pacing, walking around the room, getting back into bed and then back out of it. Danny throws the blankets off himself, gets up, berates himself for being an idiot but climbs the stairs anyway.

He raps his knuckle on the door once before pushing it open.

Steve is standing by the window, hair mussed, face pale and tight with exhaustion. He looks lost, his eyes fixing on Danny's face with a desperate tinge to his expression that makes Danny want to wrap him up in an embrace.

"I can hear you," Danny says.

"Sorry."

"Not why I'm here, babe. What's going on? You can't sleep?"

"Yeah." Steve rubs a hand over his face. "I'm fine, Danny, it'll pass; go back to bed."

"You slept last night," Danny ventures.

"I'll sleep eventually, when I get tired enough."

Danny sighs. "And then the meds wake you up, huh?"

"Yeah."

Danny runs a hand through his hair. "Wow. That sucks."

"Yeah, Danny. Nothing you can do about it."

"I can make sure you're not alone," Danny says.

Steve looks at him, holds his gaze, and Danny looks back, stops breathing at the intensity in Steve's eyes. Steve finally shakes his head. "Don't do this."

"Don't do what?"

"You're here now." Steve makes an empty gesture, drops his arm by his side. "But you'll be gone again eventually, and I don't want-- I can't--"

"You can't what?" Danny takes a step closer. "Hey, babe, what is it?"

Steve shakes his head, glances out the window. "Forget it."

"I'm not forgetting it," Danny shoots back.

"I can't know what it's like!" Steve turns around. "I _can't_ , Danny, okay? There you have it, my dirty little secret; I want you in my bed, and if I know what it's like because you're doing me a favour, then--"

Danny opens his mouth, closes it again. He makes a gesture, drops his hand. "You're saying--"

"Yeah, I'm saying." Steve sighs. "I shouldn't have said it, I know it'll just complicate things, you can forget about it if you want."

"Babe," Danny manages, takes another step forward, and another step, and Steve stands by the window, looking like he's a rabbit caught in the headlights.

"Danny..."

Danny pulls him in, wraps his arms around him until Steve gives, simply sags against him tiredly.

"Don't do this," he says, voice close to begging, and Danny turns his head, presses a kiss against Steve's temple, a kiss over the healing cut under his eye, and Steve pulls back far enough for Danny to kiss his mouth.

When they come apart, Steve looks at him with a mixture of hope and trepidation, and Danny says, "I've been wanting to do that for a long time, babe."

It makes Steve smile, properly, one of those big goofy smiles that makes something spark low in Danny's stomach, and he kisses Steve again because he can. Steve deepens it, teases his tongue at Danny's bottom lip, making the spark turn into a flame and Danny pulls away, breathing hard.

"You need to get some rest."

Steve leans his forehead against Danny's. "We both do."

Danny wants to step away but he doesn't, kisses Steve some more, and Steve licks into his mouth. Danny groans low in his throat, and Steve pulls him closer, until Danny feels him half hard against his hip. "We gonna do this, babe?"

"Hmmm--" Steve kisses him again "--yeah, okay-- if you want?"

"Yeah, I want." Danny touches his hand to Steve's mouth, feels him kiss the pads of Danny's fingers, and it makes him shiver. "You have no idea how much I want."

Steve shifts against him. "I have an idea, Danny."

Danny grins, runs his hand down over Steve's t-shirt, avoiding the areas he knows are bruised and burned, and slips his fingers into the waistband of Steve's boxers, wrapping them around his hard dick.

Steve bites his lip, chokes out a sound, and tips his head forward onto Danny's shoulder as Danny strokes his hand up and down slowly, with a sure grip. Steve turns his head, sucks a bruise to Danny's neck, and Danny rewards him by speeding up his movements, until Steve digs his fingers into Danny's shoulder and comes with a hiss of air over Danny's skin.

Danny reaches up with his clean hand and runs his fingers through Steve's hair as Steve catches his breath. When Steve settles his hand on Danny's hip and drags it slowly over his waist, Danny shivers. Steve mouths at his shoulder, finally lifts his head. "Want to see you."

"Huh?" Danny says ineloquently, distracted by Steve's teasing fingers.

"Want to watch you come, Danny. Been thinking about it."

For that, Danny kisses him, only breaks the kiss when Steve dips his hand into Danny's underwear and runs his thumb over the head. Danny bucks into the touch, on fire, looks at Steve to make sure this is really happening, and meets those eyes burning back into his own. Steve teases him, gaze a challenge, and Danny is starting to sense this is just the beginning of what Steve is capable of. It's a ride he's more than willing to get on, no questions asked.

He wraps his fingers around Steve's wrist and Steve smiles, moving his hand up and down Danny's length, and Danny can feel himself tip over, strains for the release he knows is there and then he goes, a small groan escaping as it rips through him.

When his breathing's slowed down, he catches sight of the look on Steve's face, a mix of wonder and goofiness, and Danny punches his upper arm. "Shut up."

Steve kisses him, hard and fast, and Danny gives as good as he gets, fists his hand in Steve's shirt and doesn't care he's smearing come everywhere. They come apart panting, and Steve looks at his t-shirt and shrugs, stripping it off, and Danny shudders at the sight, dick twitching weakly.

Steve wipes his own hand on the t-shirt, chucks it into a corner of the room, and sits down on the edge of the bed. Danny can see he's waning, spurt of energy gone, exhaustion creeping back in, and he says gently, "Lie down, babe."

Steve looks up at him, and yeah, there's the apprehension again. Danny slides into bed, wraps an arm around Steve and pulls him down with him, and Steve comes willingly, settling into his embrace.

\--

He wakes to find himself alone in bed, and when he makes his way downstairs, he finds Steve having breakfast at the kitchen table. Steve looks up, and Danny can't help himself, leans in to kiss him, presses an errant kiss to the healing cut on his face.

"Morning."

"Yeah." Danny scratches his face. "You're eating."

"Felt better today." Danny quirks an eyebrow at him. Steve grins. "Whatever. Don't start believing you have magic powers."

"I don't have magic powers," Danny says with a straight face, "I have a magic--"

" _Okay_ , no, don't go there." But Steve is laughing and Danny counts it as a victory. He turns to the fridge to get himself some breakfast. "I was thinking," Steve says behind him, then pauses as Danny bends over.

Danny straightens and glances over his shoulder, just in time to catch Steve whipping his eyes back up to his face.

"Uh, that, uh, I might go into work on Monday."

"Yeah?" Danny puts a bowl on the table and adds milk, reaching for the cereal box. He sits down across from Steve. "As long as you're starting with paperwork."

"Are you gonna be like this now? Seriously, Danny, I've been looking after myself for over a decade, I can--"

"Did I say you couldn't?" Danny replies in mock outrage. "No, Steven, I didn't, I'm just saying that you haven't always shown the best decision making skills when it comes to your health, and you should really defer to my superior wisdom."

Steve's eyes spark. "Superior? Superior? I'll give you superior."

Danny gestures with his spoon. "We can do that later."

Steve laughs.

\--  
 _finis._


End file.
